Earth's Worst Chairman (2)
"Looks like the negotiations got held up a bit by that unexpected incident. Shall we pick up where we left off?"
At Seo Han-gyeol's calm words, the heavy equipment knights—who had been leaning in, wondering what on earth would come out of his mouth next—were collectively struck by a bizarre sensation. "?" "?" "?"
Of course, Seo Han-gyeol hadn't started babbling in English or French. It was plainly Korean, and they understood every word. But as he strode briskly back to the negotiation area, the knights stood frozen in place like they'd all fainted at once. That was because the words coming from the very man who'd single-handedly resolved the crisis didn't make any sense.
They were all in a collective state of 'What the hell did he just say?'
Without a hint of hesitation, Seo Han-gyeol vanished into the bunker. No one could bring themselves to grab him. He looked utterly devoid of any lingering attachment—like, really, zero regrets! His stride was so nonchalant that asking him anything felt like it'd be rude.
In the sudden silence that blanketed the site, Myeong Gi-sa let out a hollow chuckle.
"…Hah."
What a weird guy.
Myeong Gi-sa knew full well: every piece of heavy machinery owned by the Heavy Equipment Knights Division was insanely expensive. Even the smallest gear started at a cool 10 billion won. Masterpieces of modern mana engineering, forged by PhDs in cutting-edge science and superhuman industry—the steel incarnate.
And the anchor that Seo Han-gyeol had stabilized? The one that should've been a total wreck? A super-sized anchor. Sure, its effect weakened with distance, but it could still project a mana suppression field out to 800 meters. Items like that weren't just about money; supply was the real issue. If production fell short of yearly projections even slightly, premiums skyrocketed several times over.
But Seo Han-gyeol hadn't just stabilized one anchor today. He'd saved countless knights from the exploding anchor's blast, preserved the division's core assets—stuff that took years from order to delivery—and even indirectly protected nearby civilians from the fallout.
Myeong Gi-sa glanced in the direction where Seo Han-gyeol had disappeared. Before he knew it, his inner thoughts slipped out.
"Gotta be someone like that…"
to qualify as a Black Agent, huh.
Of course, if a real Black Agent heard that, they'd laugh their ass off into another galaxy. A 3rd-rank hunter was powerful and socially revered, sure—but not that level. If someone could single-handedly cork a super-sized anchor and stabilize a hundred heavy machines, they'd have rocketed to 2nd or 1st rank ages ago.
But thanks to the Punishment Enforcement Bureau's obsessive secrecy, Black Agents were all rumors and no details. That left Myeong Gi-sa's mental image of their "average" capabilities hilariously inflated.
If he ever met a real one, he might even say something like, 'Why can't you do what that guy did?'
Maybe it was sheer absurdity. After zoning out for a good while, Myeong Gi-sa finally snapped back to reality.
"……."
Now he got it. The reason Seo Han-gyeol had excused himself without dragging things out.
"A show of consideration, huh."
Today alone, Myeong Gi-sa and the Heavy Equipment Knights Division had received far too much from him. In this atmosphere, they might've stammered their way right back into Nebula's slave contracts. By dropping the word "negotiations" and stepping away, Seo Han-gyeol had signaled a lot.
Today's incident? Water under the bridge. No compensation demanded for stabilizing the anchor. And… 'An apology for Nebula's past misdeeds.'
The mental walls that had held firm against Nebula's hundreds of millions in bribes and relentless threats crumbled at Seo Han-gyeol's single act of grace.
Suddenly, it hit Myeong Gi-sa: despite being Nebula's man, there was no burning rage or hostility from him.
A thought crossed his mind. If someone like that…
had been at Nebula when we lost Yeon-i…
things might've turned out differently.
Seo Han-gyeol's figure fully vanished. Amid the silent group, Myeong Gi-sa murmured lightly.
"Nebula's no saintly corporation. I know that better than anyone here."
"……."
"……."
"But."
Tap. Myeong Gi-sa turned toward the direction Seo Han-gyeol had gone. Adjusting the hardhat he'd slung at his waist during the debate, he said,
"We owe him something."
He followed after him.
"At least as much as we got."
No one in the Heavy Equipment Knights Division missed the meaning. It was a mindset all too familiar to these madmen.
Soon enough,
"…Tch. Let's go."
"Agh, my back's killing me. Gonna be slammed with overtime for days."
"Night snacks—pork hock?"
"Hell yeah~!"
The knights dispersed, heading to their posts. You give as good as you get. What had they received from Seo Han-gyeol?
"Alright! Let's hustle, boys!"
"That old man's gonna blow a disc one day."
If you'd received something, you paid it back. The Heavy Equipment Knights Division answered with laborers' groans and the roar of massive machinery.
"……."
I survived.
Escaping the open lot packed with burly, muscle-bound middle-aged men, I returned to the sealed bunker. When I first arrived, I'd thought it was stuffy—no ventilation, how do they live like this? But right now, that airtight isolation felt like a godsend.
No one around to see, I bolted in and flopped into the chair for a few minutes. Even this super-introvert body of mine finally started recharging.
Extroverts supposedly get energy from hanging out with people. Yeah, right.
Humans live to come home… Enduring agonizing outings is over. Now I'll be the one inside the house. Like a phone at 5% plugging into the charger, my energy surged up.
-Screeech.
"Sorry to keep you waiting. Had to hash things out with the other knights. Oh, and your secretary's been sent to the hospital nearby. No external injuries—just mana exhaustion from overuse."
Myeong Gi-sa was back. His tank top was soaked with sweat; he'd clearly been running around.
I shook my head politely. What was I gonna say to a guy who'd been working?
Especially since he'd taken care of A-ram too. Nothing more to add.
Actually, before coming here, I'd checked on A-ram first, but the uncles were already loading her into the ambulance with cheers.
They're all such good-hearted folks. I felt ashamed of my past self for judging by appearances.
The division had been likable from the start, but this shot their favorability past 500%.
Hard workers are a sight to behold.
As a reply of sorts, I pulled the prepared contract from my Magic Secretary Bag—grabbed before dashing out—and set it on the desk.
"I understand your duties as site manager. And thank you deeply for looking after A-ram."
"Hah…."
At that, Myeong Gi-sa stared at me like I was a national treasure. Kinda intense.
I tried to play it cool, pulling out a pen, but he snatched the papers without a word.
'?'
"What negotiation? We're stubborn, not stupid. No one's itching to butt heads with the guy who saved our precious gear and our lives."
Myeong Gi-sa was lightning-fast. Seconds after he took the papers, the contract came back stamped with the Heavy Equipment Knights Division's crisp seal.
"…Contracts should be made carefully. We still have much to discuss."
"It's fine, it's fine. That's for crooks you can't trust."
"I could squeeze you plenty."
"You? Pfft."
Grinning slyly, Myeong Gi-sa made it impossible to argue back. And hey, what scam am I pulling? Cotton-candy Seo Han-gyeol, scammer? The second a lie hits my lips, cold sweat pours, and my voice trembles at 144Hz.
Even if I could lie, imagine those uncles with wrenches, riding heavy machinery after me. Oof. No thanks.
But the contract was a success…! Careful not to seem too eager, I tucked it away.
"We'll send someone later to hammer out the details."
"Sure."
And that was that. Myeong Gi-sa showed no interest in further talks here. More like he trusted me 100%.
Intimidating.
Guess I need to return the favor later. Head to External Affairs? Tell them to treat Myeong Gi-sa right. Maybe buy coffee….
As I finished tidying and stood, Myeong Gi-sa spoke up out of nowhere.
"Won't ask why someone like you joined Nebula. Everyone's got secrets they can't share."
Hmm? Fair enough. Cotton candy like me is rare at Nebula.
I replied vaguely.
"Dwelling on the past is pointless. The present matters most."
"Heh. The present, huh…."
Myeong Gi-sa seemed lost in distant memories. After staring at the ceiling awhile, he patted my shoulder.
Ow. Strong grip….
"You're doing fine on your own, but we'll lend a hand."
"……."
Something felt ominous. My month of psycho-acting had honed my instincts, and alarms were blaring.
"Never mind property damage—you saved our knights' lives. Me, Ban Ban-jang, all of us know shame."
With that setup, he dropped the bomb.
"I'm appointing you 'Knight Training Director.' Just me and Ban Ban-jang to approve, so it's provisional. But I'll push to make it official later."
"…?"
Knight Training Director? Huh?
He said more, but I zoned out.
The next day, I visited A-ram in the hospital. Minor downside: everyone there paled at the sight of me….
"S-Seo, Executive Seo… ehehe… this takes me back to when we first met…."
A-ram seemed happy, so whatever.
After, we returned to Nebula HQ together. After that rollercoaster adventure, we finally broke ground at the Busan Oncheon Gate.
The day after the business trip. On his day off, Seo Han-gyeol woke up leisurely as usual.
10 a.m. Tracksuit and slippers dragging, he headed to his usual convenience store.
"Hey~."
"…Hi."
Awkward greeting with the ever-energetic night clerk, Seong Ha-yun.
Moments later, Seo Han-gyeol piled snacks on the counter. As Seong Ha-yun beeped them through, he idly shared a funny story to kill time.
"Oh, yeah. Somehow ended up as 'Knight Training Director' or whatever for the knights division. No pay, though. Honorary position, I guess."
He grumbled a bit. Was gonna buy that figure with extra cash….
-Thud.
"Eh?"
Seong Ha-yun, mid-scan, dropped the register. She quickly recovered, picked it up, and finished, but her hands trembled.
Seo Han-gyeol had mentioned it casually—unpaid honorary gig, no biggie.
But Seong Ha-yun, knowing the Heavy Equipment Knights Division's 'Knight Training Director' position, was internally freaking out. 'Knew he wasn't ordinary, but this is terrifying…?'
The Heavy Equipment Knights Division wasn't your average construction firm or contractor. Their gear and manpower could stand toe-to-toe with top megacorp guilds. Hell, even elite guilds had to bow before them.
Just tally it up: mana-infused machines that shredded earth and crushed rock, operated by top-tier elites. A paramilitary force that could be disbanded for "national security threats" if it were a regular guild!
But from the early superhuman era, their banner of monster extermination and rescue made disbanding them political suicide—traitor status in seconds.
With both legitimacy and muscle, they were one of Korea's elite armed groups!
And 'Knight Training Director.' That's the kicker.
'Training.' Means educating and drilling.
'Knights.'
In other words, 'Training Director' holds full authority over live combat drills. Slap 'training' on it, and you can summon the entire division anytime, anywhere for tactical maneuvers—a big red button!'
'This guy's casually saying he just legally stationed a 'private army' inside Nebula?'
In gun-shy post-gate Korea, a post commanding legal shows of force with one order? Insane power, earned on a stroll like picking up pinecones. Seong Ha-yun's mind reeled.
Worlds apart in their thoughts.
"Ahaha… y-yeah…."
Seong Ha-yun forced a smile.
"Sigh. Back to work tomorrow. You too."
Seo Han-gyeol sighed.
Ironic.